Anne Douglas (28 page)

It was an ill wind that blew no one any good, Shona reflected as Mark left her, but Brett was certainly benefiting from poor Stuart’s collapse. He’d be paid more and have full control, it seemed, for Fraser had told him the last thing he wanted to be bothered with was looking for another accountant at this time, when he was so involved with the new shop. And though not, of course, celebrating, Brett was quietly delighted.

Mark didn’t sound so delighted, though. Had his voice taken on a certain coolness when he spoke of Brett? Perhaps not. Would he get in touch with her again? Somehow, as before, Shona didn’t think it likely.

Mr MacNay did not die, but his surgeon reported that it had been a near thing. There had been great risk of the complication of peritonitis, but this had been avoided, and with rest and a long period of convalescence, the prognosis could be described as good.

Thank God for that, everyone said, but as Stuart’s parents told Fraser, there was no question of his coming back to work any time soon. He was their only child, he meant everything to them and having inherited a little money, they could afford to see to it that he didn’t have to worry about a salary until he was completely well and strong again. If it meant losing his job, well, so be it.

‘Oh, there’s no question of his losing his job,’ Fraser reassured them. ‘Stuart’s entitled to sick leave and his young assistant is perfectly capable of looking after things, so no need to worry. We’ll just look forward to seeing Stuart back when he’s ready.’

‘Looks like I’m safe for the time being,’ Brett told Shona. ‘Shame about poor Mr MacNay – I hope he does come back, of course, but for now it’ll be a wonderful experience for me to run the department my way, as well as earning more money.’

‘You’re going to be so busy, though, with the business expanding,’ Shona commented. ‘Shouldn’t you have a temporary assistant of your own?’

‘Hell, I don’t want any strange guy coming in and having to be trained to what we do. No, I can manage. I’m looking forward to it.’

When he and Shona visited Stuart in hospital, however, it seemed that the senior accountant was not so confident.

Looking pale and gaunt and older than his years, he fixed Brett with burning eyes as he lay propped against his pillows, and asked him if he really thought he could cope. ‘It’s not that I don’t have confidence in you, Brett,’ he said earnestly. ‘It’s just that there’s so much to do – even more than when I was in charge – and it might be too much for you, you see.’

‘No, no, I’m fine, I’m looking forward to it. There’s absolutely no need for you to worry, Mr MacNay. In fact, you shouldn’t – it’s bad for you.’

‘Yes, bad for you,’ Shona chimed in. ‘The doctors want you to relax completely, don’t they? Just leave things to other people.’

‘To Brett, you mean.’ Stuart smiled faintly. ‘What I can’t understand is why Mr Kyle doesn’t find someone to help him.’

‘You know what he’s like – he doesn’t want the bother of finding somebody when he knows I can do the job alone.’ Brett smiled encouragingly. ‘He’s a funny guy – doesn’t even have a proper secretary, just keeps track of his own appointments and lets Miss Elrick type his letters when she’s the time. But everything gets done, you see, because he knows what he’s doing and does it well.’

‘Promise me this, then – that you’ll stay in post until I can return.’

‘Of course I’ll stay! I can promise you that with no trouble at all.’

‘Thank you, then.’ Stuart was beginning to look so weary, Shona knocked Brett’s arm and they rose to take their leave.

‘You’re in good hands here,’ Shona said quietly. ‘Let them take care of you, eh?’

‘She means no worrying,’ Brett added. ‘We’ll be along to see you again soon.’

‘Wish I could have attended the opening of the new shop,’ Stuart murmured, closing his eyes. ‘Have a drink for me on the day, eh?’

‘You bet!’ said Brett.

The grand opening of the new Maybel’s was held on a morning in late March, before it opened to the public in the afternoon. Fraser had invited a number of businessmen, traders and friends, as well as Shona and Brett from the George Street shop and Mr and Mrs May.

‘Well, isn’t this amazing!’ Mrs May cried as she and her husband came up to Shona and Brett, champagne glasses in their hands. ‘Just look at this place – and it used to be so dreary!’

They were standing in the beautifully decorated front shop that was filled with flowers and expensive house plants, all ordered from Fraser’s new supplier, and now filling the air with fragrance. ‘I never thought Fraser would start empire building quite so soon, did you, Hugh?’

‘Never. Always thought he’d take his time,’ answered Hugh, who was looking fit and relaxed, ‘but he’s done a very good job here, hasn’t he?’

‘And Brigid seems to be in her element,’ Mrs May observed, looking across to where Brigid was talking animatedly to someone from Rotary. Standing nearby were her assistants – two juniors and a senior, an experienced florist from the previous shop who had been re-employed. ‘So very professional!’

Turning back to Shona, Mrs May’s gaze, flickering with interest, moved to Brett and she held out her hand. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Phyllida May and this is my husband, Hugh. We used to own the George Street Maybel’s.’

‘Why, of course, I know the name.’ Brett was all courtesy, all charm, as he shook the hands of the Mays. ‘I’m Brett Webster, at present accountant for Mr Kyle, though I’m from Canada – a cousin of Shona’s.’

‘Shona’s cousin?’ the Mays echoed. ‘From Canada?’

‘And an accountant for Fraser?’ Mrs May’s laugh was a little sharp. ‘And to think I used to do all that sort of thing myself! Business must be looking up.’

‘Fascinating news, my dear, that you have a cousin,’ Hugh murmured to Shona. ‘We never knew you had any relatives, you know. But how well you’re looking, as pretty as Fraser’s flowers! Life’s suiting you, eh?’

‘I think so,’ she answered, blushing. ‘But you’re looking well, too, and Mrs May. The East Neuk of Fife must have worked its magic.’

‘Too right, though I don’t mind admitting, when I see those flowers and smell their scent, the old hands start itching for the twine and the wire and I wish I was arranging again!’

‘We wish you were, too,’ Shona said warmly, and meant it.

As the Mays moved away to circulate, Brett looked at Shona and grinned.

‘My word, she’s high powered! Bet she kept you on your toes.’

‘Kept everybody on their toes. But she was very efficient, and it’s true, she did all the accounting herself, as well as running the business and working with the flowers. You had to admire her.’

‘I daresay, but I’m glad Mr Kyle’s got different ideas on what he wants to do, or I might be out of a job.’ Brett took Shona’s arm. ‘Which, thank God, I’m not. Let’s get some more of that champagne, eh?’

If Brigid was in her element, so was Fraser, who was giving the impression of being everywhere at once, shaking every guest’s hand, having a word or a smile for all in his path, totally immersed in his celebration. Except that, every so often, his eyes would search faces until he found Shona’s, and then a shadow would fall and his smile would fade. Only for a moment. Then he’d be back, greeting people, calling for the hired waitresses to keep the glasses filled and the canapés passed, and would be in control again.

‘Shall we have our own celebration tonight?’ Brett asked, as he and Shona took a tram back to George Street. ‘I feel like going out for a good meal somewhere.’

‘I don’t know, Brett – we’ve had a lot of expensive meals lately. Couldn’t we just have a fish supper again? You liked that, didn’t you?’

‘Sure, but I think you’re just worrying about money. There’s no need, you know, and it does put a bit of a dampener on things.’

‘I suppose it’s what I’m used to. Never had any money for dinners out in the old days – still doesn’t feel right.’

‘Shona, I want you to have the best,’ he said seriously. ‘Things have changed for both of us. You only have one life – enjoy it when you can.’

‘There’s more than one way to enjoy life, Brett,’ she said firmly, at which he pressed her hand in his.

‘You’re right about that, and being with you means more to me than any grand meal out.’ His eyes met hers that were suddenly shining. ‘Doesn’t mean you have to have an either/or situation, does it?’

‘I suppose not,’ she said, the glow in her eyes lessening, but that evening she was in for a surprise. Instead of some expensive place Brett took her back for another fish supper which was so good Shona felt herself vindicated, and Brett agreed that she was.

Didn’t stop him booking a meal at one of his favourite restaurants for their next night out, though, which meant returning to the starched tablecloths and formality. But what could Shona do? She set herself out to enjoy it, even though she shook her head at him over their first course.

‘Brett, you’re incorrigible! That’s a word I learned at the orphanage when the staff got exasperated with some naughty boy.’

‘And that’s me,’ he agreed cheerfully. ‘But don’t expect me to change. A leopard can’t change his spots.’

‘You’re my favourite leopard, anyway,’ she told him, her smile a little rueful, and he laughed and said he knew.

With the coming of summer, spirits lightened in the city. As blue skies replaced grey and the sun shone, bright clothes came out again for the smart folk strolling in Princes Street, and in the adjoining gardens nursemaids pushed well-to-do babies in perambulators, joining with the tourists, listening to the band.

Sunshine was good for business, too, and as sales went up in Fraser’s shops and market garden, he appeared so much at ease with the way things were going Shona thought she really needn’t worry about him any more. Money-making took up so much of his time there was little left for brooding over her, and when he began to talk of opening up in Glasgow sometime in the future she heaved a sigh of relief.

‘That will keep you busy!’ she told him when he talked to her in the workroom one day when she was alone. ‘But surely you won’t want to take out another loan?’

‘Hey, don’t worry. I can do it when I pay off the present one. His narrow eyes were studying her closely. ‘Remember when we used to talk of your being a business partner with me? Think that will ever happen? Or will you be far away in the icy snows of Canada?’

‘I’ve no plans for any such thing.’

‘That’s good news. Until Stuart comes back I don’t want to lose Brett. He’ll be going home sometime, though?’

‘I don’t know what’s in his mind,’ she said with truth, but Fraser suddenly put his hand on her chin and made her look at him.

‘Are you all right, Shona?’ he asked quietly. ‘Are you happy?’

‘Yes, of course I’m happy!’ She turned her head away. ‘Hope you are, too.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about me.’ He dropped his hand. ‘I’m just a rubber ball: I bounce back when crushed. Hadn’t you noticed?’

‘I’d better get on,’ she said uneasily, continuing to sort out the flowers she needed and, after a moment, he left.

Was she happy? Shona studied the golden orchids she was combining with yellow roses for a Golden Wedding bouquet, half her mind concentrating on what foliage would do best for her frame, the other half trying to answer Fraser’s question. Yes, should be the answer, for she had her love and was sure of him. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure of anything else.

The understanding she’d thought would be so lovely was no longer enough. There’d been no further plans, no date for a future to be spent together. Whenever she tried to pin Brett down he avoided straight answers, still claiming he didn’t know what would be happening, how he must play it by ear, see how things worked out and other such excuses. Eventually Shona would give up her questioning, until the next time, when she fared no better.

In the meantime, of course, life in the summer was sweet. There were the Sunday drives out into the country, the picnics and walks, the meals at local inns, sometimes sitting outside (always considered such a treat in Scotland), the visits to stately homes, or the seaside in Fife. And then, there was the love-making.

It was not true love-making, of course, but as they lay together in Brett’s flat, it almost was. It was what engaged couples did who daren’t take the risk of ‘going all the way’, but it wasn’t the real thing, it wasn’t what she wanted, which was to have the real thing and not have to worry. That only came when you were married, as she and Brett could so easily be. But weren’t. They weren’t even officially engaged. No wonder, then, that she didn’t always look happy. More often than not she must appear anxious, uncertain. For she was like someone tossed on a wave, thrown by the current, with no idea where she would come to rest. If she ever did.

Brett, though he seemed not to want to discuss a future with her, kept a watch on his own at Maybel’s, always enquiring about Stuart MacNay’s progress, sometimes visiting him at his parents’ house on the south side where he was still convalescing. On one of her free afternoons in August Shona went too, and sat with Stuart and Brett in the MacNays’ large, pleasant garden, drinking Mrs MacNay’s home-made lemonade and enjoying the sunshine, although Stuart said he still didn’t feel up to enjoying anything very much.

‘Just can’t seem to regain my strength,’ he said mournfully. ‘I’ve been away from work for months – felt sure I’d be better by now, but all I want to do is rest. Ridiculous, isn’t it?’

‘You’re looking much better, though,’ Shona told him warmly. ‘You’ve put on a little weight and your face is not so pale.’

‘Think so?’ Stuart sighed and looked down into his glass. ‘I can’t see it myself. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t just resign.’ He glanced at Brett. ‘Just leave it all to you, Brett. I understand from Mr Kyle that you’re doing a very good job.’

‘Come on, you’re going to be fine!’ Brett’s tone was hearty. ‘You’re probably almost there – maybe just need a little more time in this lovely garden. We all want you back, you know.’

‘Nice of you to say so but we’ll just have to see, won’t we, how I get on?’

‘So kind of you to visit our poor boy,’ Mrs MacNay told the visitors, when they took their leave. ‘He leads a very dull life, really, just waiting to get well. The doctor thinks his recovery could come quite suddenly, but we’ve told him he mustn’t rush back – his health comes first.’